


Who Am I?

by tatterwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Castiel, Bisexual Dean, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 09:29:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6418102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Cas, man, you’re one of the smartest people I know. Is this about finals or…?”</p><p>Tears burned behind Castiel’s closed eyes as he swallowed thickly. The salt burned the back of his throat as he shook his head and tried to regain some sort of coherency. He scrubbed his hands over his face, grimacing at the wet trails beneath his eyes.</p><p>“I don’t know who I am, Dean. I don’t know what I am. I don’t know anything at all.” His voice wobbled a little bit, cracking at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Am I?

“Cas, you wanna talk about it, buddy?” Dean’s voice was surprisingly gentle. The undercurrent of roughness had vanished, leaving only a genuinely concerned tone that Castiel had never heard in his friend’s voice before.

Text books still lay strewn over their dorm room, pages rumpled and covers scratched. Pens, pencils, and highlighters laid akimbo over the beds, desks, and floor. Luckily, Dean had come in just as Castiel had been ready to toss his laptop at the bed (he wasn’t a complete fool, the bed was a soft enough target that no real damage would have been made).

The green-eyed boy had quickly snatched the device before any tossing could be done. Castiel had quickly transferred the remnants of his rage toward yelling at Dean and swiping his arms over his desk, scattering notes everywhere. Then, he’d dropped onto the edge of his bed, head falling into his hands.

“I don’t know.” Castiel murmured, words muffled by the skin of his palms.

“You don’t-”

“I don’t know, Dean. That’s the problem. I don’t know anything. I know absolutely nothing.” 

Dean’s brows furrowed and he leaned forward, bed creaking under the motion.

“Cas, man, you’re one of the smartest people I know. Is this about finals or…?”

Tears burned behind Castiel’s closed eyes as he swallowed thickly. The salt burned the back of his throat as he shook his head and tried to regain some sort of coherency. He scrubbed his hands over his face, grimacing at the wet trails beneath his eyes.

“I don’t know who I am, Dean. I don’t know what I am. I don’t know anything at all.” His voice wobbled a little bit, cracking at the end.

There was a squeak of springs and then the mattress was dipping by his side. A warm hand settled on his shoulder, thumb rubbing soothing circles. 

Castiel sniffed, making sure he’d rubbed the worst of the tears away before raising his head.

Dean offered him a small half-smile that was tinted with sadness. His hand fell away, fingers curling in his lap, clenching into fists before relaxing.

“Did I ever tell you ‘bout how I came out as bi? Like, figured it out and shit?”

Castiel’s interest piqued. 

“You haven’t, no.”

“You wanna? ‘Cause I don’t know exactly what’s goin’ on in that big brain of your’s right now, but I feel like me talkin’ might help for once. Only if you want, though.”

Castiel nodded in a bid to get Dean to speak.

“All right, well, uh. I guess I kinda knew as a kid. My first crush was on this kid in my second-grade class. Name was Aaron. ‘Course I didn’t really think much of it at that age. I just knew that I wanted to spend the whole day with him. It was a few years later and it was Lisa Braeden. Then, you know, I started payin’ attention to stuff. Like, what people were sayin’, what my dad talked about, what my friends said, stuff on the TV and whatever. Boys were ‘sposed to like girls and girls were ‘sposed to like boys. There were gay guys, but they had to be pretty and like all sorts of girly shit. Then there were the lesbians who were all butch and tough and shit. And there I was, confused as shit because, yeah, I liked guys, but I wasn’t gay ‘cause I also liked girls.” Dean rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

“I knew I couldn’t ask my dad about it. He was always makin’ fun of the ‘flamers’ and ‘faggots’. So I kinda just…Pushed me likin’ guys down. I dated only girls in high school, and don’t get me wrong, some of ‘em were great, but I felt like I was missin’ something. I started questioning myself. I liked girls. I liked guys. I wasn’t completely gay. I wasn’t completely straight. For, uh, for a really long time I thought I was broken, that there was something wrong with me.”

Castiel’s heart lurched inside of his chest at the bitter edge of sorrow that hovered inside Dean’s words. The thought of his friend thinking those things made him want to…He wasn’t sure what. Maybe comfort was the right word? Console, assure? All he knew was that Dean was holding back some of the story, that the time period had not been kind to the green-eyed boy and Castiel wanted to let him know that there was nothing wrong with him.

“Anyway. I ended up talkin’ with a counselor at school when things got…Bad. She, uh, she helped me out; gave me a bunch of websites and some pamphlet-things that were full of stuff about orientation and sexuality and stuff. After readin’ those and some time, I put the label on myself. Bein’ bi fit me. Took me a few years to get up the courage to tell the old man, though. Still harps on me about it. Sammy keeps him from getting out of line, from sayin’ something or whatever. I guess, yeah. That’s, uh, that’s my story, I guess.”

Dean’s shoulders moved with a heavy breath before he lifted his gaze from his feet. The next smile he offered was brighter. 

“So, anyway. Sometimes it takes us a long time to figure out who and what we are. Hell, I’m still workin’ through some stuff. But you shouldn’t beat yourself up about it. No matter what, you ain’t gonna change as a person. Whatever or however you decide to identify as, or even if you don’t ever decide to identify as anything, you’re still Castiel. Right?”

A bit of warmth crept into his cheeks when Dean’s arm looped around his shoulders.

“I suppose.”

“C’mere, man. You’re gonna be okay. I’ll help you figure it out if you want.” Dean pulled Castiel into a hug. 

Castiel hesitated a moment before leaning into the embrace, squeezing back and letting out a pent-up breath he hadn’t known that he’d been holding.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Anytime, Cas. Anytime.”


End file.
